


Neon Blood

by KamsBizarreAdventure



Category: Hotline Miami (Video Games), Punk Is Dead (Original Work)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 14:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KamsBizarreAdventure/pseuds/KamsBizarreAdventure
Summary: July 5th, 1984. The sun rises over Los Angeles. Madison Akemi receives a package, containing a pink leaflet and a dubious mask with instructions to kill.





	Neon Blood

ＮＥＯＮ　ＢＬＯＯＤ  
“Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate.”

 

The rain battered against her window. The bright lights of the central Los Angeles shone through her window, giving her room that blue glow of night. She put on her leather jacket and slid the sawed-off shotgun into the custom strap under her jacket made just for carrying it. Tonight was her first real call and she wasn’t about to fuck this up. She picked up her guitar case, slung it over her back, and headed out the door, down the stairs of her apartment building, and out into the rainy, luminescent night. She put the keys of her Suzuki Katana and heard that all too familiar rev of Japanese motor tech. She put on her helmet and sped off into the city.

 

◄◄ REW  
(July 5th, 1984, 9:20 AM)

The sun rose over the Los Angeles skyline and through her window, forcing her to wake up. Maddi sat up on her bed and wiped the sleep out of her eyes. She looked out the window into the shadow of the city.  
“What’s new today LA?” she asked to a silent bedroom, half-expecting the towering skyscrapers to answer her rhetorical question, or perhaps the rays of sunlight to spell out a magical response. Even in a city as lively and sun-soaked as LA, she found no excitement. Ever since she lost Amanda a year ago, every day, every action had just become a thick muck that she had to drag herself through every day. The mere act of living was exhausting. Nothing was exciting anymore, nothing made her feel anything anymore.  
Maddi dragged herself out of her bed, the springs in her mattress squeaking as she stood up. The whole damn apartment was cheap, but hey, it’s not like she could afford anything else on her very limited, non-employed budget. Every purchase was a 100% expense, and she was running low. Maddi grabbed the keys for her mailbox and went down to the apartment lobby to open it. Inside there was a pink leaflet and a package. Confused, as she didn’t remember ordering anything, nor having anything being sent to her, she took the dubious mail back to her apartment and set it on the table, cluttered with late bills and other paperwork she conveniently couldn’t be assed to look at.  
But she had to. She needed somewhere to live. Maddi halved a bagel and put it in her cheap toaster as she read the bright pink leaflet.

Thank you for subscribing to our newsletter. We appreciate your interest in our cause. America is a tune. It must be sung together.

She remembered. She remembered picking up a subscription for this thing. Ever since the war with Russia in Hawaii, the two superpowers have been on the edge of their seat. And while Maddi was never one for politics or war, the idea of another power having such control over her home country gave her a rusty taste in her mouth. Though, there seemed to be no newsletter that the leaflet spoke of. Maddi cut open the box with a cheap paring knife and was understandably confused at the contents. Inside was a plastic oni mask, similar to one used in old Japanese theater and another paper.  
Target is a Mr. Seon on Wilshire Boulevard. Discretion is of the utmost essence. Failure is not an option. We will be watching you.  
Maddi felt a cold shiver all over her body. What was this? Was she being watched? She had rarely ever been scared in her life, especially after losing Amanda, but this was different. Who was watching her? She looked out her window down into the streets. Just commuters and panhandlers swindling from those who needed  
wait  
was someone just  
there?  
No...  
Maybe...  
As she was in a cold sweat, her heart almost daring to leap from her fleshy cage, her bagel popped out of the toaster.

►►FWD  
(9:15 PM)  
(https://youtu.be/-h5snZTfoEA)

Maddi was sitting in her car. She was shaking. She frantically looked out of all of her windows. She couldn’t see a damned thing in the musky yellow luminescence of the incandescent street lights, and the bright neon lights of Korean storefronts and strip malls only made glares in her eyes. Her hands were shaking as she read the note again in the pale light of her car’s indoor light system.  
Mr. Seon was a prominent figure in Koreatown, situated comfortably in a high-rise apartment that towered over the rest of the small, pathetic apartments, but even then the “high-rise” was puny and pathetic compared to Los Angeles’s real skyscrapers. He was also a prominent political figure, and an avid supporter of communism and some say, albeit behind closed doors and in hushed tones, that he supported the Russians. While he almost always ran in general elections, his partiality towards communism in this modern era made him quite renowned as a supposed traitor.  
Maddi was picking her black painted nails.

What am I supposed to do? What’s going on?  
What am I doing here?  
Am I supposed to

 

 

kill him?

 

Maddi picked up the oni mask, staring into its jolly, grinning face. The oni was a symbol of evil in Japanese theater. Of demons and devils, ogres and trolls. She guessed she could be likened to one herself. She always looked unkempt, in no part thanks to her ever growing depression over the loss of her spouse, she was unemployed, barely skirting by on horrible welfare policies, and she made no effort to do anything, most days boiling down to watching PBS and whatever else might have piqued her interest on public access cable.  
As she sighed, her breath wavered, and she put the mask into the cardboard box it had been shipped in and stepped out of the car. She quickly darted into Mr. Seon’s building and was stopped by the concierge.  
“너 배달 여자 니?” The man was short, a juxtaposition to Maddi’s height of 5’11”. Alas, she did not understand a word he said. She was Japanese, not Korean.  
“Uh, sorry I don’t speak Korean.”  
“Oh, oh, sorry! Derivery?” The man said, his English clearly needing some work, both in lexicon and accent.  
“Y-Yes. For Mr. Seon.” The man seemed to tense up a bit at the mention of Mr. Seon and simply nodded and motioned towards the stairs, quickly looking back to his computer. Maddi took the package and headed up the stairs. As she made her way up, the man spoke again, although very briefly.  
“Fifth froor. Room at the end of the hall. 나는 당신이 배달 소녀임을 그의 보디 가드에게 말할 것입니다.”  
As Maddi made her way up the stairs to the fifth story, she paid no mind to what the man had said and before she ascended the last flight of stairs, she put the box down, removed the mask, and fitted it to her face. She could see surprisingly well, and there was a mesh hole for her to breath through, although most of her breath ended up condensing as humid water on the inside of her mask.  
She finally made her way up the last flight of stairs and was met with a lone man in a tuxedo.

“너 배달 여자 니? 그 재미있는 가면은 뭐야? 할로윈이 아니에요.” the guard said promptly. Maddi was shaking. What was she going to do? Why did she do this? Was she an idiot? “이봐, 너 한테 말하고있어!” She was starting to sweat in her leather jacket and ripped muted gray jeans. Her breathing was starting to heighten. Her heart was pounding, like a crazed ape at the zoo.  
“니가 배달부가 아니라면, 너를 미치광이 놈으로 여기에서 꺼내!” The man said. Maddi’s eyes darted to his hands. He was drawing a pistol. She pushed him over and pinned him down in an instant. She clasped her hands around his neck and squeezed tightly, watching as the man was asphyxiated and drew his last breath. Her hands were shuddering visibly, as was her whole body.

 

What just happened?

 

She took the pistol and noticed the silencer.  
“Good,” she said nonchalantly. Her mind was racing, however. What did she mean by “good?” She just killed a man, for Christ’s sake! But at least her next kills wouldn’t make a lot of noise. She made her way to the end of the hall and was met with a lone door, finely made with plastic wood. She knocked the door. She gripped the pistol tightly. She had never used a gun in her life.  
The door swung open and the guard jumped backward. Before he could let out a word, Maddi rushed into the apartment and swiftly put a bullet in his head. He slumped to the ground silently. The apartment was rather large, especially for a low-income area like Koreatown. Something was amiss, but Maddi didn’t notice.  
She had to kill Mr. Seon.

“침입자가있다! 성 씨를 알립니다!” A lone guard shouted before producing his silenced PSS. Maddi, having hers already drawn, shot the man in the head, and similar to her last victim fell straight to the floor. She dashed through the living room, through the kitchen and into a hallway where another guard was making his way. She shot him again, though this time twice in the chest. He fell backward and was killed as his skull met the wooden floorboards. Maddi took to the wall as she shimmied along, hearing more footsteps. She whipped around the wall’s edge and was met with a staircase and two more bodyguards. She unloaded two more shots into the guard higher up the stairs, and as he fell down he took the lower guard with him, both soundly meeting an end at the bottom of the stairs.  
Maddi ejected the magazine and checked how many rounds were left. None.  
“Dammit,” she said frankly and dashed back into the kitchen. She picked up a cast iron pan and dashed back up the stairs. As she made her way to the door at the end of the narrow hall, she barely noticed the lack of any more guards making their way towards her position. She turned the knob and slammed the door open and was met with the shaking mug of Mr. Seon Hyeon-Jeong. He was standing at his desk, cluttered with papers of all sorts, though to which Maddi didn’t really care for that much. It was all political nonsense she mused.  
“Prease don’t hurt me!” the pathetic man said, his hands raised. Maddi herself was shaking, though at this point adrenaline had calmed it to a much less noticeable state. She walked promptly towards Mr. Seon.  
“Prease!” he shouted. As he did, Maddi drew the cast iron pan back and whacked the politician in the left cheek, blood spattering to the wall and curtains, as well as over his papers. He fell to the ground with a thud and he looked back up at Maddi. She was on top of him, her legs spread over his protruding, chubby belly. He lifted his hands to his face, but it was for naught. Maddi brought the pan above her head and swiftly slammed it into the man’s face. She did this again and again, his face becoming bloodier and more thrashed with each bash until he was a gurgling bloody mess.  
Her clothes were covered in blood. Flecks of gray matter stuck to the leather of her jacket. The building was quiet. Maddi looked at her hands and saw the scarlet consequences of her berserk mind. She was shaking. But not from fear, no.  
This time from joy.

►►FWD

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. Kam here. I started this one a couple months ago and totally forgot about it as it sat in my Google Drive. Haha! It's still a work in progress, but I thought I'd upload my progress, for now, to see what people think. Ciao!
> 
> ~Kam


End file.
